


happier

by dansmithism



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansmithism/pseuds/dansmithism
Summary: dan hears voices and they encourage him to do unspeakable things.





	1. lately, I've been thinking

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty crap, but yayyy, a first chapter!!

_Well that was fucking awful._  
  
I don’t think it was too bad. Bit of a mess, yeah, but it looked dead fun though.  
“Shut up!” Dan shouted into the deathly quiet room, staring at the lifeless body that was strewn across the floor before him, doused in its own blood. She used to be such a pretty thing and so sweet, too, but his urges had overruled his decision to let her go. Especially since she had already seen too much; asked too many questions. Besides that, her sweetness had just been a mask for her true evils and so, in this musician’s twisted mind, she had deserved her bloody demise. He never killed because of the fun of it, he always justified his kills with some kind of reason, but he’d be damned if he didn’t admit that the urges were stronger than his rationality sometimes and would make him snap at the slightest of things. With a harsh sigh, he slipped away from the body and into the kitchen, holding his bloodstained knife under the hot water tap to rinse it clean.  
_You’re going to have to get rid of that knife, y’know._ Mumbled the voice he called Cain.  
“I know.” Dan replied, grabbing at a cloth and furiously scrubbing the knife’s blade before flipping it over and scrubbing at the handle to rid it of his prints. “And the cloth, too.”  
_It was a nice knife, too, what a shame._ Cain seemed to sigh, somewhere inside Dan’s head.  
Why can’t he keep it? Asked the second voice, known as Nicholas.  
“Because if the police trace any of these deaths to me and they find this knife, it’ll be one of the first things they’ll bag up and use as evidence against me.” Dan told him, dumping the knife onto the side.  
And you don’t want that, right? Nicholas was an idiot.  
“No, of course not!” Snipped the musician. “Can you imagine all of the press it would get? And, worse than that, I’d be given so many life sentences without parole I’d end up dying behind prison walls.”  
_Not to mention the shame you’d bring upon your family and friends._ Cain reminded him.  
“That, too.” Dan agreed, nodding some. “Now I have to find a way of getting rid of her body.”  
_Why not do what you did with the others? Cut her up and dump the pieces?_ Cain suggested.  
“It’s getting too obvious now... The police are looking for another sign of the serial killer.” Dan frowned, shaking his head. “They’d find out it was me quicker than I could blink.”  
Boo, you’re no fun! Whined Nicholas, who was apparently excited to be a part of cutting up another body. A fourth body. Dan, meanwhile struggled with the idea of doing so; not only because he couldn’t do it again in case the police caught on to him, but because it always such a disgusting process. Having to break bones and cut through the flesh to break the limbs apart; having to cut the head off was always his worst nightmare... He’d thrown up the first time, but afterwards? It felt somewhat cathartic. Some people released tension through art, or through beating up a punching bag; Dan did this through killing and music. Not that anyone but the voices in his head and the ghosts of those he’d killed would ever know about the former, of course. Or, at least, he hoped that they never would. He prayed and pleaded quietly that they never would.  
“I don’t want to get caught doing this, you idiot!” Dan snipped at the stupider voice in his head.  
You’re just a coward. What you do, what you’ve done, it’s art, mate, you should be displaying it with pride. Like a Kubrick or a Lynch film... It’s- Nicholas argued, trying his hardest to make Dan see ‘sense’.  
_Beautiful._ Cain finished for him with an awe-struck sigh. _Makes me wish I could appear in reality and help you... But, then again, you probably prefer to work alone._  
  
“I’d rather not do this at all.” Muttered Dan, returning to the body and biting down hard on his lower lip. “But I’m going to have to do something... I can’t keep her body here. Someone is going to find her if I keep her.”  
_Which is why I suggested you cut her up, like you did with the others._ Insisted Cain, pushing the narrative that Dan should he continuing with his ritual. Why fix something that wasn’t broken, after all?  
“Fine!” Agreed the musician, throwing his hands into the air. “Let me take her into the bathroom first.”  
Yay! We get to cut her to bits! Yapped Nicholas, happily.


	2. i want you to be happier

_That was... Gorgeous!_ Cain’s voice breathed, once Dan had fallen back and away from his bloodstained bathtub. _I damn near lost myself._ He was referencing the idea that he was close to losing his composure over such a barbaric and messy scene and that had the musician grimace in response. What a disgusting thought; getting off to such images... He couldn’t understand why Cain felt the need to be so very nearly graphic about it, either. Even if he was a figment of his own imagination, he was utterly disgusting.  
“Did you absolutely need to tell me that?” Dan asked, screwing up his nose and frowning.  
Yeah, Cain, that was gross! Nicholas chimed in, apparently trying to gain favour with his host. Can’t be talking about wanking off to such things, Christ! Weirdo!   
“You can shut it an’ all!” Snipped the musician, momentarily closing his eyes out of pure frustration as he exhaled loudly through his nose. “I need some peace.”  
 _To admire what you’ve done?_ Cain asked, in such a way that made Dan picture him wearing an uncomfortable smile.  
“No, Cain,” Dan retorted, shaking his head some, “to regain some sort of control on the chaos that is my train of thought.”  
 _I see, how poetic! Artistry brings out such a bohemian side to you, did you know that?_ Cain replied, making a sound that was supposed to constitute a laugh, making Dan’s spine tingle and shiver uncontrollably. How dare the voice in his head refer to this clean up as artistry! How dare it! It made him sick to know that murder was somehow considered to be art in any form, in fact...  
“Oh shit!” He breathed, scurrying over to the toilet and retching out the contents of his stomach. Once it was safe to breathe again, he sniffed then spat out whatever excess was in his mouth, cursing and muttering under his breath.  
Oh no! Are you okay, Dan? Nicholas whined, sounding... Concerned.  
“No, I’m not!” Snipped the musician, smacking his hand against the toilet seat. “Of course I’m not!”  
Was it the blood or picturing Cain wanking that made you sick? Asked the idiot echo inside his mind.  
“If it was the blood, I would have thrown up earlier, Nicholas.” Sighed Dan, running a hand through his hair and forcing himself to sit upright and stare at the bathtub full of body parts. “I wouldn’t have even killed her in the first place if it was the blood that made me feel even a little sick.”  
Then you pictured Cain wanking, didn’t you? Giggled Nicholas, showing Dan a brief glimpse of a man grinning, which, for some unknown reason, made Dan himself grin, too.  
“We’ll go with that.” Dan replied, shrugging a shoulder. The real reason as to why he had thrown up was a complete mystery and would, probably, remain that way so why not give Nicholas this one? It was a much better, much more, uh, colourful idea than simply saying that he didn’t know why he had thrown up.  
 _You shouldn’t encourage him._ Tutted Cain from somewhere distant in Dan’s head.  
“At least I’m not encouraging you.” Dan retorted, getting up and returning to the task at hand.

× × × × ×

At some point, once Dan had finished his clean up and managed to get every speck of his house clean, a chiming noise pulled him straight to the hard ground that was reality. The alarm on his phone was chiming melodically in his pocket, vibrating every few moments, reminding him of something. He dug around his pockets and yanked it out of the front left-hand of his pocket, finding that this alarm was a reminder that was due to see his psych in an hour.  
“Fuck...” He sighed. “Fuck!” He said, a little more firmly. “Fuck!” He shouted, turning the alarm off and catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “I need to change... I have to go.”  
 _Oh Christ, you aren’t going to see her again, are you?_ Cain seemed extremely annoyed by the idea that Dan needed to leave the scene of the crime to attend an appointment.  
The nice lady with the mints? I like her. Nicholas chimed in.  
“That was my mum, and no, we’re not seeing her... I have to go see, uhm, see a doctor.” Dan was hesitant to let either of them catch wind of what was actually going on because the last time they had, it hadn’t ended particularly well for him later that night. He had suffered terrible nightmares and he’d be damned if he was going to allow it to happen again.


End file.
